I have been thinking about writing this article for a long time. When I was writing this article, every time I typed a word on the keyboard, it felt like I was tearing open the scars that I had managed to hide seamlessly, layer by layer. Just describing it would be very painful.
As a protest blogger, I always avoid talking about the cause of my illness. There are always people who will seize on this and think that my anti-depressant experience is too inspirational and smooth, and that I am a fake patient. So I thought it was time to tell my story!
These things start from childhood. When I was three years old, my mother locked me out of the house and told me to throw me away. No matter how I cried or yelled, she always looked regretful for giving birth to me. I only remember that my grandparents insisted on taking me in and worked hard to bring me up. Not long after, my mother became pregnant with someone else’s child, and the outcome was, of course, divorce. My dad later also found a fat woman, but she never came home. After experiencing my mother’s hostility and my father’s stories, I became timid and introverted. Later, I went to elementary school, and it was also in elementary school that something happened that I couldn't let go of for more than ten years.
It was on the way home from school. I wanted to go to the bakery to buy caterpillar bread . In order to save time and go home quickly, I chose the shortcut, so that I would pass by a KTV parking lot, and that’s where I encountered someone wearing a hat and smelling of alcohol. It seemed that I was scared because I was drunk.
Since then, I have never dared to go to school, and I have never dared to tell my family. They asked me why I was afraid of going to school, and I said that I had met a bad person. Yes, I remember that when my grandma heard that I encountered bad guys, she would get so angry that she would go to school.
Later I changed my story and said I was sick. I started pretending to be sick, pretending to have a stomachache, pretending to have a fever. I used various excuses to not go to school no matter what. It was at that time that my dislike of studying began.
In fact, I didn’t go to school at all in the last two years of elementary school. I either pretended to be sick and asked for leave, or I had a big fight with my grandparents who raised me and asked them to compromise.
For the past two years, I have stayed at home and tried to forget that disgusting memory, but I found that it didn't work. At that time, although my father ignored me, he brought back a computer. I wore headphones and played games day and night, such as CF, speed car, Dance, , and various other games. I also chased stars. Starchasing made me meet netizens from all over the world. Everyone thought that I was suffering from Internet addiction, but only I knew that I just wanted to use these things to escape myself in reality.
It seems that the existence of this virtual world can really provide me with a safe haven, allowing me to temporarily forget the unbearable things. When I was under 12 years old at the time, I often looked up information about death on the Internet, and even directed and acted in a movie about swallowing pills called "Qi Lai" to gain connections with netizens. So much so that some netizens still give me a nickname with the comment "Sleeping Pills" because my grandparents don't understand computers. Every time they came, I would switch the computer back to the desktop and tell them that I was looking up study materials online. Even though I worked so hard, he would bring hot meals to my computer desktop for me to eat.
In fact, when I didn’t go to school in the first two years, I didn’t study seriously even a day. My grandfather is an old educated youth. He even bought some elementary school teaching aids and wrote down some elementary school knowledge points for me in a whole book. Familiar, but fortunately, I lived up to their expectations. I got full marks in my graduation exam. Although I was only in elementary school, I felt that it was already very good for the unbearable experience I endured at that time. But this also meant that I had to go to junior high school.
continues to be updated...
